Sleeping with the Light On
by Hanaasbananas
Summary: Emma Swan had always believed that marrying her Match would be the first step towards a happy ending, and for a while, it was. But then the matching system falls, and her husband leaves without so much as a goodbye, and suddenly, Emma doesn't know anything at all. Cross posted from AO3
1. Prologue

It was supposed to be a birthday surprise.

Mr and Mrs Nielsen had promised Emma that if she got full marks in twenty math tests, she'd get a special present for her birthday. Each day she'd carefully cross off the date on the family calendar, tongue poking out in concentration as she counted down the days.

Emma had been dreaming for weeks of all the places they might take her, the things she might get. She was six-a big girl now, and she'd been extra well behaved so that they'd get her something good.

She hoped it was something she could keep, like the pretty blanket with her name on it, or her favourite tattered copy of _The Princess Bride_. (But deep down, all Emma wanted was a special piece of paper. The paper that would say they wanted her forever.)

But that was before the fighting.

Before the whispered fights, and the screaming matches when she was supposed to be asleep. Before plates were broken and rings thrown away. Before Mr Nielsen slammed the door behind him and didn't come back.

For Emma's sixth birthday, she didn't get cake. All she got was a misty eyed foster mother and a scary doctor's office. _This way you won't make my mistakes_, Mrs Nielsen told her, barely looking up from the paperwork as they took her away. _They'll make sure you're taken care of. _

There were no presents. Instead, there was screaming and kicking; bitten lips and sizzling flesh, and hot iron pressing down into the delicate skin of her wrist.

That afternoon, Emma went back to the group home.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

_Founded in the aftermath of World War II, The Federation sought to provide certainty in a time when there was none. Citizens were placed in a system that guaranteed them their perfect life partner, and the survival of the quintessential nuclear family unit. However, with the 80's came a more stable population, and signing up to the system no longer became compulsory. Today, very few citizens take part. Despite this, those deemed 'at risk of destabilising the social order' can be placed into the system by government officials or parental guardians, thus ensuring the continued prosperity of the United States._

_Those in the system are easily identified by the unique brand on the insides of their wrists in the shape of a laurel wreath. Violating the terms of The Federation is punishable by law and those in the system are forbidden to engage in relationships with those who are not. Citizens are free to make an appeal to the Supreme Court for leaving the Federation, although to date, none have been granted…_

—August W. Booth-_ A History of The Federation_

* * *

_January 2018, Boston_

The Nolans last a month before they come to visit Emma. The tell-tale rumble of David's truck pulling up in the drive gives them away, and Emma barely has a chance to throw a sweater on over His shirt before they make it to the door. Telling them she was _fine_ over the phone was easy when they couldn't see her- or the pile of tissues and dishes beside her bed. If they knew she wore His shirts...well, she'd be hard pressed not to have David try and hunt Him down.

And really, she was doing _great._

"Hi guys!" Emma flings the door wide open before they can knock, pasting a bright smile on her face and making sure she keeps her eyes fixed on their faces. It's not difficult with them blinking at her like she's some kind of alien species. Mary-Margaret looks particularly surprised to see her so chipper, but she recovers quickly and bustles in, dragging David behind her as he greets Emma with a quick hug.

"Tell me again how you're not a psychic? You _always _know when we're here."

"C'mon David! who needs a sixth sense when you have that truck?" Sticking out her tongue, Emma darts away from under David's arm as he sputters indignantly at the insult. Weaving through piles half-packed boxes through to the kitchen to start the coffee machine, Emma laughs quietly when she hears Mary-Margaret feeding platitudes to her husbands ego.

This is good, Emma thinks, humming to herself while she prepares the mugs. She can keep things light. Light and breezy, and no one needs to even _mention_ Killian. She falters at the thought—brilliant blue eyes flashing unbidden in her mind— making her gasp aloud and spill sugar over the counter.

"Emma?" Spinning around at the voice, she sees David watching her cautiously from the doorway, a small frown twisting at his lips. "Are you okay?"

"Fine! I'm fine." Cursing at the way her voice goes shrill, Emma hides her trembling hands behind her back. "I've just uh-had a _lot _of coffee today," she shrugs, glancing down to avoid his pointed gaze, "you know how jittery it makes me."

"Mhmm," David remains unconvinced, but thankfully drops the subject, pushing off from the door and helping her load refreshments onto a tray before following behind her into the living room where Mary-Margaret has already made herself comfortable. Emma tries not to balk when she catches sight of Mary-Margaret; but the way her hand curls protectively over her rounded belly as Emma approaches tells her she failed.

They don't take long to get to the point.

Once they run out of inane things to chat about, the conversation tapers to a close, filling the room with silence. Mary-Margaret is the first to break it, reaching out tentatively to grasp her hand.

"Emma...Honey..." Looking across at David for affirmation, Mary-Margaret continues. "We want you to come and stay with us for a while- at least until you get back on your feet. We really want to help."

Emma considers the offer, nibbling quietly on a cookie and regards the two of them carefully. David is sat next to Mary-Margaret, his arm around his wife's shoulders, she watches as he takes her hand, absent-mindedly rubbing his thumb gently over her knuckles. The two of them make such a saccharine-sweet couple that she almost wants to scream. Why couldn't _she _have been so lucky? Where did she go so wrong?

"No." Quashing the guilt that bubbles up in her chest at their distressed expressions, Emma speaks firmly. "I-I won't go with you…but I'm not staying here either."

"Don't worry about me you guys. I mean, I'm uh, I'm putting this place up for rent and then…I don't know." she shrugs "I'll go somewhere. Get away." David and Mary Margaret exchange a worried glance, and Emma huffs quietly, lips pulling down into a grimace.

"It's _okay_, you guys, I'm not gonna try and find him." Blinking back tears, she extricates her hands from Mary Margaret's. "I know Killian never loved me. So what would be the point?"

* * *

_July 2016_

_They got married on a Friday. Killian, still grieving, didn't even bother looking at his bride as he lifted the veil, barely registering the flicker of hurt that crossed her face before they faced the priest. The law could make him marry this woman, but it couldn't make him love her. Not when his heart belonged elsewhere._

_His heart ached at the memory. Only a week before, they'd made him watch as his Milah had wed another, her tearful eyes catching his from where he stood in the back, even as she pledged commitment to the man that should have been him._

_Of course, Killian had known the risks of a dallying with a Matched woman, but he hadn't quite anticipated the pain that would come from losing her. Most nights he'd lie awake, wishing he could just tear out his heart and crush it, if only it would bring an end to the pain._

_Polite applause from the congregation bought him back to the church, and Killian held out his arm for his new wife, looking down for the first time at her surprisingly strong grip. She was a beautiful woman- of that there was no doubt. Blonde curls cascaded over her shoulder and her sparkling green eyes rimmed in black, observed him carefully._

_The service was remarkably short, and before he knew it, they were stepping out for photos- the photographer Federation approved, of course. Resisting the urge to scowl, Killian stretched his lips in the approximation of a smile, hoping it didn't look as forced as it felt._

_He wondered what Milah was doing. Was her husband kind? Did he keep her happy? What he wouldn't give to be by her side today…his increasingly desperate thoughts of Milah were interrupted by a nudge in his elbow as Emma pointed something out with a giggle. The Federation officer sent to observe the wedding was falling asleep where he stood, his toupee sliding forward over his face._

"_Five dollars says it falls off and he leaves without it"_

_Killian couldn't help it. He laughed._

* * *

_December 2017_, _San Francisco_

Milah opens the door and it's like he's twenty years old again. She stands radiant, hair thrown over her shoulder in a messy braid, deep scowl giving way to an astonished grin as she recognises him. it's been a while, he supposes. And he's grown a beard.

"Milah." Her name leaves his lips like a whisper, and he finds his arms wrapping around her instinctively as she launches herself at him, laughing joyously in his ear. The embrace is familiar, but his heart doesn't beat faster when he has her in his arms, nor does he bury his face in her hair like he once used to.

He can't quite tell if that's a relief or not.

Her house is just as he imagined it. Framed pictures of Milah and Owen adorn the hallway, showcasing the life of a beautiful, happy young couple.

"You know, when I first got the letter, I thought it was another scam- you know the ones I mean," Milah calls behind her as she leads him through the house. "But then so many people started getting divorced that the courthouse shut for a week just to process! Really makes you doubt the accuracy of the Federation, doesn't it?"

It's only as he gets to the end of the hallway that Killian sees the baby; stopping short to stare at the picture in surprise. Milah- smiling tiredly, Owen by her side. Her husband grinning from ear to ear as he points at the child swaddled in his wife's arms.

"His name is Liam." Milah's voice is soft, as she comes to stand beside him, gazing at her little family, a tender smile on her face. Killian is so distracted by how content she looks that it takes a moment for her words to register.

"Liam? You named your boy _Liam?_" Killian barely manages to choke out the question. He stares, transfixed at the picture, bringing up a hand to trace the child's face. He can hear his older brother behind him already, crowing about the news to all that would listen. Liam probably would have taken the kid out every weekend too, in an attempt to mould the boy in his own image.

"I promised, didn't I? My only hope is that he'll live up to his namesake."

"Aye, with you as a mother." Forcing himself to turn away, Killian grins down at Milah. "How could he not?"

Killian was reminded again that before they were lovers, they had been friends. Best friends, in fact. That had been what made it so easy to fall in love. They had been young and reckless, their every kiss tinged with the adrenaline that came with knowing they'd broken the law. Emma had steadied him, in that regard, showing Killian the beauty of the smaller, simpler acts in life. That he didn't need to run all the time. The satisfaction that came from cooking a nice meal together; relaxing with a book after a long day at work, even just hosting people in the evening.

His stomach twists at the memory, mind going back to the disastrous dinner party they'd held several months before. He'd never seen so much blood in his life.

"Killian?" Milah sounds concerned. "What's the matter, darling?"

Shaking his head clear, Killian follows Milah through to the kitchen, dragging out a chair and sitting down heavily. He waits for her to take a seat across from him before speaking.

"You really got lucky, you know" he gestures around the kitchen around them, filled with mismatched crockery and brightly coloured cupboards "I'm happy for you, Milah-hey! Don't roll your eyes at me!"

Milah just laughs "seriously? We don't see each other in two years and all you say is 'I'm happy for you'? I know we may not be a couple anymore, but I can still read you like a book"

Killian doesn't respond, simply scowling across the table at her as he runs his fingers over the woodgrain. Once Milah rises to put the kettle on, he speaks.

"You know, I used to dream about you"

Milah glances away from the stove, eyebrow raised in amusement "_used _to?"

"Well it's not like i had any new material to dream about, did i?" ducking his head reflexively, Killian narrowly dodges Milah's dish towel

"The first night i dreamt of blonde instead of brown, I avoided Emma for a week" He can feel the tips of his ears turning pink at the admission, and this time he lets her cuff him round the head as she passes behind him.

"Killian Jones, please tell me you did _not _do that!"

He shrugs "I felt guilty, didn't I? but you know what's worse? Not even two weeks later I almost lost Emma too"

He can feel his eyes getting wet already, recalling the glazed way Emma had looked at him when he broke down the door, her shirt soaked through with blood. He'd never driven so fast in his life. All the guests had quietened in shock as he carried Emma down the stairs, her head lolling lifelessly over his arm, his own hands covered in her blood.

"What happened?" Milah places his tea down loudly, jerking him out of the reverie. She looks at him the way she used to look at a particularly difficult sudoku puzzle, and he wants to tell her that his life is far more difficult than numbers ever would be. Instead, he looks away, eyes searching out an ultrasound photo on the fridge.

"It was ectopic" he barely hears Milah's soft exhalation of breath, getting up for a closer look at the grainy picture. "nine weeks. Emma had lost so much blood by the time I found her that the doctors said it was a miracle she'd survived at all"

"When I saw her lying there…" Killians voice cracks "I couldn't-I couldn't" he swallows "it was the first moment I realised I couldn't live without her" Milah looked stricken, eyes wide as she watched him move around her kitchen before suddenly spinning on his heel and facing her. Killian drags his hand down over his face before addressing her, his shoulders seeming to sag under a heavy weight.

"Milah, I-" he starts "before moving on, I just…I just needed to see you. I need that closure we didn't have"

"Oh, Killian" Milah laughs quietly to herself "oh, my darling. We can't let the 'what if's' of our past stop us from living now. I've moved on, Killian, it's time for you to do the same."

* * *

_December 2017, Boston_

Emma stands in front of the mirror, shirt pulled up to her chest as she examines her scars. A Laparoscopy was only supposed to leave two small scars, but she had been unlucky (as usual). They weren't particularly ugly scars, but she couldn't ignore the way they marred her skin, a permanent reminder of how her own body had failed her.

Squeezing her eyes shut against the tears, Emma flops back onto her bed, pressing the heels of her hands onto her eyes as though that would stop the traitorous thoughts. It had been seven months and yet she still couldn't get it out of her head. The doctors had said there was nothing to be done, that it was completely coincidental, but they hadn't felt the flutter of life. _They _hadn't begun to think about nurseries and toys and _family_. All they dealt with was facts. Cold, hard, facts with no room for love.

Killian had promised her that everything would be fine. He had grasped her hand between his, kissing her fingers as he told her that all he cared about was her. That she had made it through and nothing else mattered. But where was he now?

* * *

_May 2017, Boston_

_Emma excused herself with a smile, squeezing Killian's hand as she slipped past him up the stairs. The dull throbbing across her abdomen was getting worse, and she sat down heavily on the bed, head bowed while she exhaled slowly through the pain._

_The heat was stifling, and Emma could feel beads of sweat forming across her brow as she struggled to breathe. __She needed to splash her face with water. Stumbling into the bathroom, Emma stopped short at the sight of herself in the mirror. The makeup she had so painstakingly applied did nothing to conceal how all the blood had leached from her face; the rouge on her cheeks looking almost clownish against her pallid skin. Swaying dizzily on the spot, Emma snapped out of her trance when a particularly loud laugh came from downstairs._

_Right, of course— the party. She just needed painkillers, and maybe a touch up…could she blame a mascara wand for her eyes? Where were those damn painkillers? Grasping the sink with one hand, Emma rummaged in the cupboard, knocking over several bottles of face wash in her search for the tell-tale box of tylenol. She knew it was in there somewhere…_

_Aha! Grasping the box in her hand, Emma teetered back as bile rose in her throat. White hot agony lacerated through her stomach and her legs buckled underneath her. Struggling to stay upright, Emma slid down against the door, hissing between her teeth in an attempt not to cry out at the pain._

_She didn't know how long she sat there, trying to catch her breath. Minutes? Hours? How could she tell? After an eternity, Emma looked down, blinking blearily at the blood that had seeped through her dress._

_That was gonna be a bitch to clean._

_Gritting her teeth, Emma clutched the door handle, as she tried to pull herself up, barely managing to get on her knees before collapsing to the floor on her back. Black spots danced in front of her vision as she stared up at the ceiling swimming in and out of focus._

"_Swan?" Killian's voice called as if from a distance, distorted by the dull roaring in her ears. "Is everything okay?"._

_Slowly turning her head to face the door, Emma opened her mouth to respond but all she managed was a barely audible gurgle as something warm trickled down her chin. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried not to think about what that might be, focusing instead on trying to speak._

"_You haven't fallen down the toilet, have you?" Laughing quietly, Killian rapped on the door to get her attention. "Just...hurry it up, all right? People are starting to wonder where you've disappeared to."_

_He was leaving. He couldn't go-not yet. Not when he was so near. She had to stop him. Panic bubbled up in her chest, and Emma let out a strangled cry, moving her hand infinitesimally to thump on the door urgently from her place on the floor. She heard his footsteps pause, and then…_

"_Swan?" Killian sounded concerned now, waiting expectantly for her to speak. She had perhaps moments before he left again for who knew how long. Raising her head, she licked her lips, trying to get rid of the cottony feeling in her mouth. Emma almost wept in frustration when her reply was drowned out by a surge in the music downstairs, collapsing back to the floor from the strain of keeping her head up._

"_OI! Turn it down!" Killian hollered down at the guests, but she barely heard him. She barely even heard the shriek that ripped from her own throat—another wave of roiling fire spreading through her stomach. Neither did she hear the sudden silence in which her scream echoed, or Killian's shoulder hitting the door as he tried to break it down._

_The last thing Emma saw before succumbing to darkness was wide blue eyes filled with fear._

* * *

_January 2018, Boston_

As it turned out, January isn't the best time to travel.

Tapping her foot impatiently, Emma cranes her neck to see ahead in the line, narrowly avoiding being shoved back into the trolley stacked with suitcases behind her. The amount of people coming back from Christmas break was ridiculous, and wholly inconvenient. Why did so many people need to visit their families anyway? Emma had none and _she _did just fine on her own.

She had had a plan and everything, but what was it they said about best laid plans? Something about going awry, anyway, and it seemed her day was meant to be just that. The new tenants had lost their keys, so she'd had to wait around and give them _her _spare, so instead of arriving early, Emma had made her way into the airport just as the departures rush began.

Lovely.

Catching a glimpse of a tall, dark haired man, Emma quickly looks down, pretending to examine her watch as he passes her by. She'd already embarrassed herself by grabbing a poor man she'd mistook for Killian, she didn't need to do that again. Emma needed to accept that Killian would never come back to her, but it was difficult when she saw him in every crowd. A blue-eyed man there, a British accent there…it was a wonder she hadn't gone insane. More insane than renting out her house and moving to a different state, of course.

There would be no Killians in Tallahassee, and as far as Emma was concerned, that was the best part about the place.

* * *

Turning the key in the lock, Killian opens the front door slowly, wincing at the screech of the hinges. Emma had always preferred to let him oil the doors.

He's just bringing in his suitcase when a prickling sensation on the back of his neck tells him he's being watched. Emma must be home then, though he could have _sworn_ she worked Tuesdays. Turning to greet her, Killian stops short at the sight of two women who are decidedly _not_ his wife.

They regard each other silently for a minute, Killian letting the door slam shut behind him before jabbing a finger at the tallest of the two.

"Who the bloody hell are you_?_"

The woman glares at him, hands on hips as she steps in front of her companion protectively. "We _live_ here. Who the fuck are you?"


	3. Chapter 2

January 2019, Storybrooke

Wiping her forehead absentmindedly, Emma continues frosting the last of the cupcakes. The kitchen is empty this early but that's exactly how she prefers it. No distractions, no noise, just silence and a steady hand as she puts the finishing touches on each order. Early mornings are when she does her best work, and Granny had been happy enough to give her a key.

Speaking of early mornings…Emma glances at the clock, frowning as she notes the time. The new delivery driver is cutting it way too close for a first day. There's a huge order that needs to go out in time for a party and if he's not here soon he'll get stuck in the school rush. She just hopes the guy has a reliable GPS, because he'll need the shortcuts when she's done briefing him.

Right on cue, a sharp knock sounds on the delivery entrance and she straightens up, smoothing down her apron before going to open it.

Granny had scandalised Emma when she mentioned the new guy after interviews, '_now _that_ boy is a fine piece of cake if I do say so myself'_. Emma laughs under her breath at the memory of Granny's salacious grin as she nudged her, but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't curious—even if the thought of a new relationship makes her queasy, there's no harm in _looking_.

Unfortunately for Emma, she barely catches a glimpse of the guy before two of the oven timers go off behind her, shrieking loudly in the silence, and she whips around, missing the shocked expression of the man in the door.

"_Shit_, shit" she rushes for the souffles first and gestures for the guy to come in "um, the cupcakes are right there-they need to be delivered first and everything else is in the blast chiller with labels, so it should be easy you'll just have to leave like..._now_ to miss the traffic"

"Swan?" the voice is incredulous and unmistakably, painfully familiar. Emma freezes, heart leaping into her throat _no, please no it can't be. _Rising up slowly from her position behind the counter, Emma can't help the whimper that escapes her mouth, eyes locking with blue eyes so recognisable they may as well be her own.

Killian is still stood in the doorway, staring at her like he's never seen her before. He steps forward, mouth opening as though to say something, but she can't do it.

She can't do this.

Holding up her hands, Emma shakes her head, cursing herself for the tears that well up in her eyes as she backs away. Heart pounding rapidly in her chest, Emma turns on her heel and walks away.

* * *

_Emma jerked awake, hand slamming down on her phone to shut it up. Rising from her awkward position on the couch, she squinted in the morning light, eyes straying involuntarily to the door. Nothing had moved._

_Her popcorn and milk duds combination sat congealing in its bowl, untouched from the night before. She'd planned to have a movie night with Killian, but Emma had found her appetite shrinking with every hour that passed without any sign of him, until eventually she must have dropped off— too exhausted to wait._

_Her phone pinged with a notification and Emma grabbed it, quashing down her negative thoughts, a smile already tugging at her lips in anticipation of Killian's apology. He'd probably been held up at the work conference, would tease her with _a you know how bad I am at charging my phone_. Maybe he'd even throw in a promise to make it up to her later. (Those were her favourite). _

_Instead, it is the final Federation message she will receive, simply confirming what she'd heard on TV the night before. _

In response to government budget cuts, The Federation has failed to secure the appropriate funding and is shutting down effective immediately. All marriage contracts filed with The Federation are no longer legally binding and can be terminated through any court of law if and when participants desire. A televised press conference will be held later today with CEO Fiona Black in order to discuss the matter further.

_Dread pooled in Emma's stomach, but she supressed it, ignoring the terrible suspicion forming in her mind. He wouldn't…not after everything…not _now. _If the news last night was anything to go by, the trains probably weren't running in the chaos. _Then why didn't he phone to tell you that?_ she quashed the traitorous whisper in her head, biting her lip doubtfully. What if he really has left her? Now that there's no legal reason for them to stay together…she stares down at the wedding band on her finger, remembering his preoccupation with the other woman-Milah- at their wedding. But he was over her right? Or had he just pretended because he didn't see a way out and wanted to make the best of a bad situation?_

"_No!" Emma exclaimed aloud, snapping herself out of her spiralling thoughts. Things might have been strained at the beginning, but they were a proper couple, who loved each other. She ignored the voice in her head telling her the Nielsen's had 'loved' each other too. _And see how _that_ turned out? _the brand on her wrist a constant reminder. _

_No._

_This whole Federation thing was just messing with her, and by the time she sat down for breakfast Killian would get home and try to sneak half her food as if she won't notice._

_He'd be back in a couple of hours most likely. Maybe she would make his favourite muffins while she waits._

_There's no need to worry. Everything's fine._

_(She can't stop staring at the door)_

* * *

It's been two weeks, and Killian hasn't seen Emma since his first day. Emma isn't one to miss work and it looks like she's using all her vacation days at once just to avoid him.

He can't say that he blames her.

Every morning, he comes in for work, and every morning he is greeted by Granny waiting for him with a list of deliveries. He hasn't told her about Emma but if her sympathetic smile whenever she sees him is any indication, she's figured it out.

Ruby and Belle had been kind enough to fill him in when he'd walked through the front door a year ago, leading him to the new shed in the yard where Emma had neatly packed away all his things. She was leaving town, they said, he must have just missed her at the airport.

He'd thanked them for their generosity, and then gone out to the nearest bar to get blackout drunk. Killian spent the next month in a similar state, cursing himself for his stupidity, for becoming so self-absorbed that he completely forgot about how Emma would take his sudden disappearance. He hadn't been thinking at all, Killian reflects bitterly. He'd become so accustomed to their brand of domesticity that he hadn't thought anything could destroy it, let alone _himself_.

It was this same arrogance that had ended his relationship with Milah, but by _god_, he was going to fight for his love this time.

Except Emma didn't want to be found.

It didn't matter where she went, he couldn't find her. She'd shut down all her social media accounts, got a new phone number, and completely wiped everything from their life together. She was the bail bondsperson, not him, and every time he thought he got his chance, it was too late. She'd moved on.

Until now.

Killian hadn't even been looking this time, truly. It had been a year and he was ready to throw in the towel, to admit his failure. But it looked like the universe took pity once in a while.

He's so engrossed in his thoughts that it takes him a second to realise Granny isn't waiting for him outside. That's odd. Usually she's there at seven thirty on the dot. Making his way inside, Killian stops short. Emma.

_Emma_ is stood kneading dough at the counter. She doesn't look up at his approach, simply continues to knead violently, slapping the dough hard on the table, and he tries not to wince. Killian opens his mouth to speak but before he can, Emma's pointing to a crate on the table next to him.

"Mayor Mills needs those by 8. Tell her I decided devil's food cake was appropriate for the occasion" her voice is quiet, and still she doesn't look up at him, but her words send a thrill through him, nonetheless.

"Yes, ma'am" he murmurs, picking up the crate full of cake boxes. Devil's food cake, he smiles. That was the cake Emma chose for their wedding. "Is this for a wedding reception?" he can't help but ask, turning to Emma expectantly.

She finally looks up then, meeting his eyes across the room. He's not sure but he thinks she's smirking, just a little.

"Actually, the mayor is celebrating her annulment."

* * *

Emma doesn't let herself relax until she hears the van in the distance and releases the tension in her shoulders. That was harder than it should have been.

And yet...wiping that smile off Killian's face had felt so satisfying. Smug bastard.

"Want me to fire him?" Granny's stern voice makes her jump, as her boss comes to stand beside her, grabbing the dough from her and dividing it methodically into quarters. "He's a good driver but you're the best baker we've got. I know which loss would be worse for business"

Emma pretends to consider it, laughing under her breath while she puts the dough away to prove. "Nobody's getting fired, Granny. We're both fully capable of working together, and I won't take any more days off, all right?"

Granny nods relieved, clapping Emma firmly on the back, "good. But remember, you know the combination to my safe if you ever need the crossbow"

"I'll keep that in mind"

By the time Killian comes back for the next round of deliveries, the kitchen has filled up with the rest of the staff, and she's working on so many orders she barely has time to stop and hand him the list, giving it to one of the part time assistants to pass on instead. She still watches out of the corner of her eye, admiring the way his biceps flex while he lifts the cakes, but she doesn't dare turn her head, acutely aware of Killians eyes on her.

That's how she spots it. Emma almost drops a tray of cookies, gasping aloud when she sees the glint of his wedding band in the sun. The clatter of the tray barely makes a dent in the noise of the kitchen, but Killian turns to look at her anyway, regarding her intensely across the room. She ducks her head down, cheeks burning as she hides amongst the other bakers.

How dare he? How _dare_ he wear that ring when he threw away everything that it represented? Anger bubbles up in her, white hot and blazing in her chest.

This can't go on. She can't. She can't be reminded of their failure to make it every time she sees him.

The ring has to go.

Emma goes straight down to the courthouse after work before she can talk herself out of it.

She paces back and forth, worrying her lip as she waits for them to draw up Federation papers. This, at least an advantage of that stupid brand on her wrist. All divorce papers for Federation victims are the same, and she doesn't give herself a chance to second guess herself, signing the papers as soon as they're presented to her, still warm from the printer.

Now to get Killian to sign them.

She lies awake all night, tossing and turning trying to forget about the papers in her handbag. She thinks about ripping them up. Of never talking to Killian about the fact that they're still married and just ignoring him. He would never have to know. But then every time she closes her eyes, she sees Killian staring at her in concern, as if he has _any_ right, and suppresses the urge to find him and make him sign them at- she glances at the clock- three in the morning.

It's useless. After another hour of no sleep, Emma gives up. She has to be at Granny's in two hours and there's no way she's getting any sleep _now_. Might as well practise some of the recipes she wants to add to the menu.

She makes blueberry muffins. (Killian's favourite).

* * *

Emma is waiting for him the next morning. Killian tries not to let his delight show, but his smile dampens when she grimaces and avoids his gaze.

"Killian..." she begins, picking at her fingers anxiously "we need to talk. About us"

_Finally_, Killian grins in relief, finally, he can sort things out. He practically falls over his own feet in his rush to take a seat across from her "aye love, I think so too"

"Really?" Emma looks surprised, and...disappointed? "well. Um. You never waited to finalise everything last year, so I figured I'd do it for you" she slides a plastic folder towards him, watching as he takes out the papers, realisation dawning as he reads them.

A divorce? Is this really what it's come to- Emma barely able to look him in the eye as their lives fall apart around them?

"Don't worry. I already signed them. I don't want anything, so you can take whatever you want from the settlement"

He can't let this happen. Running a hand through his hair, Killian watches as Emma sighs quietly and gets up, moving past him to pass him the days delivery rota "It's a pretty small day for deliveries so you'll probably be finished in a couple hours"

"Emma"

"You could even go to the courthouse straight after work with the papers and we'll be divorced" she snaps her fingers, laughing bitterly "like magic"

"Emma"

"Oh, and I need you to take these samples to the Herman's." Emma continues as if she hasn't heard him, "Ashley still hasn't decided on a baby shower cake so I put together some stuff she might like"

"Swan!" the name bursts out from him, echoing in the silent kitchen and Emma flinches, eyes skittering over to him and away again before she turns around.

"What do you want, Killian" she sounds tired and he swallows before reaching for her hand. He counts it as a victory that she even lets him hold her.

"I want us to try again...as friends, bloody hell, even _co-workers _if nothing else." he rises up from his seat, coming to stand behind her, grasping her hand like it's a raft and he's drowning. _I am drowning_, he thinks _drowning in a life without Swan_. "Please, Emma, don't shut me out. I never meant for this to happen"

Emma whips around, glaring up at him through red rimmed eyes she shoves her finger into his chest, making him stumble back a step "But it _did_, Killian, and you can't change it" she chokes back a sob "it's too late."

Her words hit him like a blow to the stomach and he scrabbles for the chair behind him, falling into it heavily. "Emma, I _love you._ It's _you, _it will always be _you!"_ he's losing her, he can tell. They're both openly crying now, Emma standing over him as he weeps into his hands.

She grabs him by the shoulders, pulling him up and cupping his face gently, wiping away his tears even as they continue to flow over her hands.

"Don't make this harder than it is, Killian. Maybe six months ago I would have believed you but…" Emma leans up, pressing her lips to his in a kiss, her breath catching when he slants his mouth over hers, pulling her closer as she threads her hands through his hair. All too soon she pulls away, resting her forehead against his as their tears mingled together.

How many times had they stared at each other like this in the past? How many times had he taken for granted Emma's smiles, her kisses, her love?

"I can't...I can't let myself be wrong about you. Not again." she whispers against his lips, kissing him again, chastely before pulling away with a smile that shatters his heart.

"I can't go through that again, Killian. It will _break me_"

(He stares at the door long after she's gone)


	4. Chapter 3

_February 2019, Boston_

"Okay, yeah I deserved that"

"You deserve _worse_" David glowers at him before stepping back, opening the door to let Killian in. "But Mary-Margaret made me promise I'd only punch you once."

"Remind me to thank her" he mutters as he pushes past David, making a beeline for the kitchen. David might have only been allowed to deck him once, but he sure as hell packed a lot of anger behind his fist. Killian's going to have a hell of a black eye tomorrow. Idly, he wonders what Emma will think of it.

If she even deigns to look at him, that is.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Killian's head pops up from behind the freezer door eyebrow cocked as though the answer is obvious. "Erm hello? Black eye…ice pack? No?" taking in David's unimpressed stare he sighs "crap."

He's always known David to have a temper, and until now he'd been lucky enough to have never been on the receiving end of it. If Emma's tears make him feel like the worst man on the planet, then David's anger makes him feel like a goddamn insect. But he has to do this. Because God knows he's completely useless on his own.

"Look, Dave…" he begins, uncomfortably, moving to sit at the kitchen counter. "I know I'm not your favourite person in the world right now" he ignores David's scoff at the admission "but I'm trying to make things right with Emma and I need your help"

"I made a mistake, alright? I got caught up in everything, and was impulsive, and selfish, and…" he groans, dropping his head to the table with a dull _thunk_, ignoring the way his face throbs painfully in response. "I'm fucking useless. I messed up the _one_ good thing I had going for me" _fuck! _He bangs his head on the table again, "and there's no coming back from it now"

"Here," David mutters gruffly and suddenly he's being hauled up by the shoulders and has a bag of frozen peas shoved into his hands "for your eye." David's own eyes are slightly warmer, but he looks down at Killian sternly.

"I'm doing this for _Emma_, not you."

* * *

_March 2019, Storybrooke_

_I made the right choice, I made the right choice, I made the right choice_. Emma repeats the mantra in her head as she works, trying to drown out the sound of Killians voice in the kitchen, but it's like her every sense is attuned to him. Her chest tightens to know that her ears can still pick out the low rumble of his laughter in a room, that she still holds her breath when he passes by her, that she has to fight a smile when he brings her coffee on an early shift.

Because he was still _trying_, fool that he was. He'd been gone for two days and she had thought that was it. She thought for sure that he'd leave, especially now that there was no legal obligation to stay. He'd never had a problem with leaving before, and that had been when she _wanted _him.

And then he'd come back.

He'd just…waltzed in one morning with a dazzling smile and a grilled cheese sandwich in hand. Though his smile had dimmed the longer the sandwich lay untouched on the counter, and by the end of the day it was gone entirely. But Emma felt no satisfaction. If anything, it made her feel worse.

Slamming down a tray of meringues, Emma reaches automatically for the blowtorch, ignoring the wary glances her co-workers share over her head. They'd been walking on tiptoes around her ever since Killian had let slip that he was her husband. Husband. As though that word meant anything to him. Maybe it had, once. At least, Emma had let herself believe it.

Browning the last of the meringues, Emma thinks about those who let her down, who left, who made her feel worthless. Given the chance, she'd drop kick them all to hell, so why doesn't she want to do the same to Killian? When his betrayal had hurt the most?

_Because he's trying to fix his mistake_. A traitorous voice whispers in her head, _no one else did that_. But that didn't mean anything. She couldn't _let_ it mean anything. Not now.

"Shit hang on Emma I spilled some mil-" the warning comes too late for Emma, who's already turning to take the tray to the front of the shop. Slipping on the liquid, Emma's foot slides out from under her, her hands automatically going up and sending the meringues flying before she lands, _hard_, on the ground.

For a beat, the kitchen is completely silent, and then everyone leaps into action, rushing towards her as she gingerly gets back on her feet. God, she's going to have to get changed. Leaning heavily on the counter, Emma groans. _And_ make the meringues again.

"Swan?" _his _voice- closer than it has been in days-makes her head snap up and she feels a lump form in her throat at the concern in his eyes. Stumbling backwards, she yelps when her hand lands on the still hot blowtorch. Killian lunges forward but then Granny is in front of her, leading Emma away with her hand clutched tightly to her chest and barking at Astrid to clean up the mess she made.

_I made the right choice. _Emma repeats the words in her head again, even as she finds herself looking back over her shoulder at him, eyes alighted on his outstretched hand-he was _still_ wearing that goddamn ring. Turning away, Emma finds that his eyes, so filled with concern linger in her mind, reminding her of another day, long ago, when the only thing she needed was his hand in hers.

_I made the right choice…didn't I?_

* * *

_May 2017, Pilgrim Hospital, Boston_

_Brilliant white light forced its way behind Emma's eyelids, the sharp smell of bleach making her wrinkle her nose uncomfortably. There was a heavy weight by her side and Emma pried her eyes open, blinking groggily at the sudden brightness. Looking down, she saw a man in a chair beside her, his head resting on the bed by her hand. Killian. Emma's heart constricted in her chest. He'd been so distant lately, seeing him so near to her was almost startling. She didn't want to scare him away but…lifting her hand slowly, Emma bought it to his head, stroking his hair in a gentle rhythm while she took in the rest of the room. A large bouquet of flowers stood on the table beside her bed, next to a glass of water. The sight of it bought attention to her dry throat and she reached out for it with her other hand. _

_The water was still cold, the glass slippery with condensation when she grabbed it, bringing it closer…and promptly dropping it to the ground where it shattered on impact. _

"_H-wha-" Killians head shot up at the noise, eyes darting around the room before settling on Emma, who smiled sheepishly up at him. He simply gaped at her until she lifted her hand, wiggling her fingers in a wave._

"_Hi?"_

"_Swan!" her name left his mouth in a strangled gasp and suddenly she was engulfed in his arms as he held her close, burying his head in the crook of her neck. "God, Emma, don't scare me like that again" _

_He pulled away, and Emma saw for the first time how unkempt he looked. His face was red and blotchy, dark bags circled his eyes; his beard fuller than she'd ever seen it. _

"_God you look terrible" she blurted without thinking, eyes widening as she realised what she said "Shit."_

_But Killian simply chuckled warmly in response, his eyes filled with relief, and something else, something gentle she couldn't identify. He pressed his lips to her forehead and murmured "but you look good enough for the two of us"_

* * *

_March 2019, Storybrooke_

Not for the first time that evening, Killian wonders if the universe is conspiring against him.

Emma stalks ahead of him, her shoulders hunched in on themselves against the chill and probably against him too. He'd _told_ Granny that this was a terrible idea, but she was adamant. Emma always went with the delivery driver on big orders and, well-a giant fairy grotto cake for a party of a hundred definitely qualified as _big._

It was supposed to be a straightforward delivery, but of _course_ the van would run out of gas 3 miles out of town where there's no cell reception.

In his periphery, Killian notices Emma stumble and he jogs to catch up with her, instinctively offering his hand to her while shining his cell phone flashlight to reveal the slick mud road ahead of them.

"Jesus, Emma come on let me help" she stares at his hand as though it's going to bite her but then sighs, and grabs hold of it without a word.

She doesn't speak while they make their way down the road and he doesn't try to force the conversation. What was it David had said? 'You need to show her you won't leave. Let her see that you're staying because you _want _to be with her, and not out of obligation.' He'd been trying to follow that advice for close to a month now, but Emma wasn't one to make things easy. She'd rebuffed his every peace offering, every attempt at conversation; and the last time he'd come this close to her she almost burned herself in her haste to get away from him.

That sort of thing didn't really inspire confidence in a man. And well, wandering around the sticks in the middle of the night really doesn't get his message across.

He could try and talk to her, he supposes, but he's loathe to tip the fragile balance that exists between them. For now, he's just content to hold her hand, subtly sneaking glances down at their joined hands every time he helps her cross a particularly slippery part of the road. Maybe he squeezes her hand every so often, but he tells himself its only to make sure she's holding on tight enough.

Once they're on firm ground again Emma doesn't let go and Killian pauses, long enough that she notices.

"What is it, why do you keep looking at me like that?"

"N-nothing, I just…" Killian shrugs, gesturing at their hands. Her eyes follow his and she practically _yanks_ her hand out of his, rushing forward without meeting his eyes.

Well that answers that question.

They make the rest of the walk in silence. Killian's mind buzzing with thoughts, many of which leave a sour taste in his mouth. He doesn't want to give up, but if Emma is so adamant that they stay away from each other then how can he go against her?

He needs to talk to Emma. _Really_ talk to her instead of all these stilted, one sided conversations that lead nowhere. He needs to know if there's even the _slightest_ glimmer of hope for them.

If not…well then, he can bow out gracefully. Let himself become a footnote in the life of Emma Swan. But he has to _know_.

"Emma…" she refuses to acknowledge him when they arrive back at Granny's, flinching when he reaches out for her.

"Stop it, Killian." Her words are measured. Calm. He can still hear the tremour under the surface as he moves to stand in front of her. Killian can't help the note of pleading his voice takes on as he tries to meet her eyes.

"You can't keep shutting me out, Emma you _have_ to listen to me today"

"No. I don't. Leave" Emma looks up, finally, and there are tears in her eyes. His heart aches at the thought that he's causing her this pain, but he can't help it. He steps closer.

"Don't do this to me"

"Didn't you _hear_ what I said? _Leave! Go!" _Emma's voice rises to a shriek on the last word and his heart sinks. He nods in acceptance.

"Okay." He nods again, scratching behind his ear "okay, alright, I'll go". Turning to leave, he spins on his heel again to face her. "But just…one more thing. Remember what I said to you in the hospital?"

He doesn't know if she's listening to him anymore, but she has to know the truth and- "That still stands…and for me it always will."

* * *

_May 2017, Pilgrim Hospital, Boston_

_She's been in the hospital for a week now and Killian has barely left her side. It's gratifying to know that he's there. That when she cries over the future they lost he's right beside her, that he feels the loss just as much as she does. _

_But…she still remembers how distant he'd become, before. And what had changed? Just her hospitalisation. What if he was simply feigning his concern, staying by her side out of pity? Her heart couldn't bear the thought. _

_He was sat beside her bed right now, his brow furrowed, tongue sticking out adorably in concentration as he pondered the crossword. Sensing her eyes on him he looked up with a smile, tucking his pen into his book and setting it down on the table. _

"_What is it, love?" _

"_Why.." Emma began hesitantly, picking at invisible threads in her blanket "why did you start pulling away from me? Was it something I did?"_

"_God, Emma _no_!" Killian seemed aghast at the mere suggestion. "I'm just an idiot, I thought…" he swallowed "I got _scared_." Moving to sit on the bed next to her Killian lifted her chin gently but she wouldn't meet his eyes, too scared to hear his platitudes. _

"_The thing is Emma, I realised that I'm always thinking about you. I didn't even notice it happening." Emma looked up at his words and he smiled encouragingly at her, even though she could see uncertainty in his eyes along with that emotion she still couldn't identify._

"_But" Killian licked his lips "the truth is, whenever we're together, everything feels good. _Life_ feels good. Maybe it's not the most exciting, but it's simple and honest and there's no need for anything else. No matter how bad my day is, you can turn it around with just a laugh. And when you're sad, all I can think about is how to make you happy again. And that scared the crap out of me." It was his turn to avoid her eyes. Instead, he grasped both her hands in his, rubbing his thumb over hers absentmindedly. _

_Emma's breath hitched in her throat at the raw honesty of his words and she felt tears welling up in her eyes. Disentangling one of her hands, she reached up to cup his face, stroking his cheek when he immediately leaned into the touch._

"_Yeah, I tried to stay away from you-I got scared, because, the last person I said this to was taken away from me and I thought that if I just didn't let myself admit it, or even _feel_ it, then it couldn't be taken away. And I pulled away because every second that I was with you, I just wanted to say it: _Yes, I am in love with you_. But I'd stop myself every time because I was afraid the pain of losing you would far outweigh the happiness of our relationship."_

_Sitting up straight, Killian looked at her directly, his eyes clear and blue and so _open_ she could finally identify what she saw in them._

_Love. _

"_The thing is, I'm not scared anymore."_

* * *

_March 2019, Storybrooke_

The coffee machine is broken.

Standing in front of it in defeat Emma pinches the bridge of her nose, resisting the urge to throw it across the kitchen.

She barely slept, turning Killian's words over and over in her mind until she was more confused than ever, and now she can't even have a morning coffee. The thought of seeing him without having a cup of coffee first makes her stomach churn with anxiety. Bad enough that he saw her breakdown last night, now he'll know she's _losing sleep_ over him too?

Briefly, she contemplates calling in sick and just hiding in her bed for a long weekend until she remembers that Granny's will have a working coffee machine and anyway, hiding from Killian will only make him believe he can still get to her.

She has to prove him wrong.

With renewed vigour, she gets ready for work, stopping _just_ short of speeding in her haste to get to a working coffee machine. In her single-minded pursuit, Emma barely mumbles a hello to the other bakers before rushing to make her drink.

It's only after she gulps down the scalding liquid and begins preparing another cup that she notices her co-workers staring at her.

"Emma" Astrid approaches her carefully and the others move away to begin morning preparations "are you sure you want to be in today?"

"Yeah why wouldn't I be here?"

Astrid's eyes are wide, darting to and fro as she fidgets with her necklace. "_You _know," she leans in, lowering her voice conspiratorially "with Killian leaving today"

All the blood freezes in Emma's veins. Her voice is hoarse when she replies "h-he what? Where?"

"He came by earlier" Astrid shrugs apologetically "said something about a job in New York? I think he's taking a bus out today"

"Excuse me" Emma barely chokes out, practically stumbling away from Astrid, her mind whirling. Why? _Why_ would he leave?

_It's not like you gave him a reason to stay. _A snide voice whispers in her head _he's only doing what _you_ told him to. _

Exactly! This is what she wanted all along—for him to leave her alone so she could live in peace. So why did it feel like her heart was breaking all over again? Scrabbling frantically in her pocket for her phone, Emma scrolls through her contacts until she finds what she needs. "pick up, pick up, pick up" she mutters as the phone continues ringing until-

"Emma?" Mary-Margarets voice cuts through her spiralling thoughts "what's wrong honey?"

"It's K-" she can barely speak, her breaths coming in short gasps as she struggles to keep her tears at bay. Through the rushing in her ears she hears Mary-Margaret instructing her to take deep breaths, to calm down before trying to speak.

"Killian" Emma finally blurts out, startling them both. "he-he's leaving town" she swallows "we had a fight last night, and I told him to leave and now he is, _but why am I so upset about it? I _wanted _this!"_

"Emma you know exactly why."

"I just don't want to let him hurt me again"

"Do you think he will?" she considers the question. Thinks of the way Killian kept his distance at work when she avoided him. The way he leapt at the chance to help her whenever she needed it. The way he'd wink when he bought her a coffee in the morning and she had to force her lips not to tilt up in a smile.

"No" she says slowly, and then with strengthening conviction. "He won't."

Emma's pretty sure she breaks a few traffic laws on her way to the bus depot, and her parking job is the worst thing she's ever seen but right now she doesn't give a single crap.

She has no idea what bus Killian's on, or even which ones are going to New York, so she finds herself storming down the lot, pausing in front of each bus, squinting to see where each one is headed. When she can't see any she resorts to combing through the crowds by each bus, shoving through people and trying to find that familiar head of dark hair. She refuses to entertain the possibility-however more likely it seems to be becoming- that he's already left.

He _can't_ have left. Not before she has the chance to tell him the truth. She'll never forgive herself if her own stubbornness is what ruins their chances.

After what seems like hours of fruitless searching, Emma makes her way to the front desk again but they simply shake their heads apologetically. "Sorry ma'am, but the last bus to New York left forty-five minutes ago. We can book you a ticket for the bus tomorrow though, if you want?" she waves them off blankly, turning away and slumping down on the closest bench.

So that's it, then. _There's no big romantic gesture for Emma Swan_, she thinks bitterly _why should there be when I ruined everything so completely?_

"Stupidstupid_stupid!"_ she mutters angrily, slamming her hand down on the bench. "I just _had _to listen to my fucking head and now he's gone and _ohgod-"_ she drops her head into her hands, digging her fingers into her scalp. Her chest aches and she can hardly see for the tears blurring her eyes, "Why couldn't I just _tell him_ I still love him?"

"Say that again."

Emma's heart stops.

No. No, this is too cruel, even for her mind.

"Please?" the voice comes again.

Lifting her head from her hands, Emma looks up and…there he is, suitcase by his feet, hands in his pockets. Blinking rapidly, the image before her doesn't fade and she notices that he's wearing the shirt she got him for her birthday.

Emma doesn't think. Doesn't give her mind a chance to falter. She launches herself at him, hugging him tight enough that he exhales harshly, his hands settling on the small of her back. She pulls away just enough that she can look up at him when she says-

"I love you." He responds with a kiss, his mouth closing on hers, gently parting her lips. The kiss was deep and loving, and it made her dizzy with emotion. She doesn't know how long they stand like that, lost in their embrace, but finally, they pull away, hands automatically finding each other and entwining as though they'd never been apart.

"But-" Emma begins, leaning up to peck him on the lips again "I think from now on we should look forward, instead of back. Start fresh, I guess"

"Well in that case…" Killian lets go of her hand, stepping back until they're a formal distance apart. He offers his hand out to shake "Hi. I'm Killian Jones. Would you like to go out for a drink?"

Lips twitching with the effort not to grin, wide and cheerful, Emma grabs his hand, yanking him forwards and pulling him in for another kiss.

"I'm Emma Swan." She murmurs against his lips "and I would love to"


End file.
